


Jamming

by Sed



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 17:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sed/pseuds/Sed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tron, Flynn & Clu, jamming together and building the system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Grey_SW's](http://grey-sw.tumblr.com/) prompt.

“You’ll have to talk to Shaddox about that.”  
  
“I’m talking to _you_ , Flynn. This is _your_ world, after all.”  
  
Flynn stopped walking and turned to his double. “Clu, I put you in charge when I’m not around. If you really want a sublevel plant there, then _put_ one there. You can’t come to me for approval every time you’re unsure about something.”  
  
“I’m not… it isn’t every time.” Clu looked understandably insulted. Flynn sighed and put his arm around him.  
  
“How about we take a break, huh? Been a while since I’ve come here and we’ve done anything besides work. I’m sure you could use a little time off.” He squeezed Clu against his shoulder and laughed. For a moment Flynn considered giving him a noogie, but he didn’t think the program would take well to that; somehow he’d developed a strange sense of vanity, mostly regarding his hair.  
  
“ _Time off_ would be inefficient. We won’t complete the new sector by the end of this cycle if we don’t work at a continual pace.” He sounded almost frantic, and Flynn wondered how something that had started as a copy of himself had turned into such a nerd.  
  
“How about this, I’m ordering you to take a break.”  
  
“I am not Tron,” Clu scoffed. “I know my directive and I intend to see it carried out as swiftly as possible. You know, sometimes it really feels like you’re working against me.”  
  
Flynn found that mildly unsettling. He couldn’t imagine what he’d ever done to make Clu feel that way. Even more reason, in his opinion, to take it slow for a bit. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d burn out working at your pace all the time. I’m just trying to help you.”  
  
“You can help me by—wait, burn out? What do you mean?” The nerdy panic was creeping back into his voice. Flynn rolled his eyes and patted Clu’s shoulder. He let the fear sink in for a moment, giving the program time to come to his own conclusions before he used them to convince him that pausing his frenzied pace was a good idea. “Is that like derezzing?”  
  
“Uh, something like that, sometimes. Depends. Look, the bottom line is I’m your boss, and I’m okay with it.”  
  
Clu narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said we were partners.”  
  
“Semantics. So,” Flynn jerked at Clu’s shoulder, “what do you want to do? Let’s grab Tron. The three of us, we’ll go have some fun, huh? How does that sound?”  
  
“It sounds unlikely.”  
  
“What? Why’s that?”  
  
“I find the idea of Tron doing anything fun to be a stretch, at best.” He slipped out from under Flynn’s arm. “Besides, he’s probably prowling around somewhere, looking for the next great menace to the Grid.”  
  
“My circuits are itching, Clu.” Tron came around the corner of a nearby building, striding purposefully toward the pair. “I could swear you were just talking about me. Greetings, Flynn,” he inclined his head toward the user and smiled. “Been a while.”  
  
“Even on my end. Are you guys fighting again? You’re like an old married couple.”  
  
Clu turned on Flynn with a glare that could melt steel. “I resent the suggestion that he’s my type.” Both he and Flynn turned to Tron, but the security program just stared, a slightly bewildered expression crinkling his brow.  
  
“I don’t like it when you two banter in user terms—especially when it’s about me,” Tron said. He lifted a hand and gestured to Flynn. “So, what’s the plan?”  
  
“The plan,” Flynn said, now sidling up to Tron, “is to relax and have fun. You can do that, right? Clu doesn’t think you can.”  
  
“That isn’t exactly what I said, but it does imply the same general idea.”  
  
Tron ignored the dig and shrugged. “There’s always the new light cycle grid. We could have a go at it. Like old times, right, Flynn?”  
  
“Yeah, just no MCP trying to get me killed this time. Alright, let’s do it. What about you, Clu?” He made a gesture at his program, challenging him. Tron didn’t seem to get it, but he knew Clu would understand, and he wasn’t disappointed. With the decision made, the three headed for the gaming arena.  
  
  
  
——————-  
  
  
  
“He’s not too bad, actually,” Tron observed. He and Flynn were watching Clu as the program did a perfect figure-8, coming to a stop in one swift slide. They had started out pumped to challenge one another, only to realize quickly that, even with safety restrictions in place, the game was incredibly dangerous. After Flynn promised to go over the process and make it less lethal, they settled on performing tricks to one-up each other. Clu, having guessed the number Flynn was thinking of, went first.  
  
“He gets it from me, I’m sure,” Flynn said. Both he and Tron did their best to seem unimpressed as Clu came idling over on his bike. They were leaning against Flynn’s light cycle, arms crossed in a ridiculous parody of one another.  
  
“So?”  
  
Tron looked at Flynn, Flynn looked at the floor. “I mean, it was alright,” Flynn muttered, “you know, for your first time on a bike.”  
  
Clu’s smile dropped. “That wasn’t my first time and you know it.”  
  
“Oh. Well then, totally changes everything. You were terrible. Alright, my turn!” Flynn pushed himself off from the bike and shooed Tron back as he lifted one leg over the seat. Once settled he reached back to engage his helmet. The bike roared to life, and with a quick squeal of tires he was gone, leaving only a cloud of digital smoke.  
  
Flynn hadn’t been on a light cycle in a long time. Maybe a bit too long, actually; he was having trouble steering on the slick surface, which was a serious problem, considering the bikes were designed specifically _for_ the grid environment. He wanted to pull over and make a checklist, or just note somehow that he had to fix their handling as well as their overall lethality in competitive situations, but then he caught sight of Clu and Tron. The two programs were on the other end of the arena by that point, but he could read what was happening nevertheless. Clu was posturing, striding back and forth before Tron, who was now leaning casually against his own bike. Flynn hoped they got along better when he was really absent, instead of just out riding around.  
  
“Hey!” he yelled, unsure if his voice would carry over the noise of the bike. He slowed himself and did a U-turn, coming back around to face them. Neither program responded or even seemed to notice. Pushing his foot down, Flynn opened the throttle and charged across the open field. He was getting more than sick of their stupid bullshit already, and he’d only been in the system for a couple of hours. “Didn’t you hear me?” he said as the bike slowed and came to a stop next to them. Clu was standing in front of Tron, looking down at his own hands; one palm was open and flat, while he jabbed at it with the forefinger of his other hand.  
  
“Less than a point-zero-zero-zero-six-three repeating margin of error, _and_ —”  
  
“Clu, what are you doin’ man? I don’t think Tron cares.” Indeed, Tron was looking off to the side, eyes fixed on the distant wall of the arena. Flynn remained straddling his bike as he watched Clu rattle off figures to support… something. “You two really need to stop this. I don’t know what it is with you, it’s like cats and dogs.”  
  
“I am not a _dog_ ,” Clu spat, his attention suddenly focused on Flynn.  
  
Tron, who Flynn was sure had no idea what a dog was, turned to Clu. “Well I’m certainly not a dug.”  
  
“Dog,” Clu corrected.  
  
“That either.”  
  
Flynn slumped forward on his bike and crossed his arms over the front display. He waited for a few minutes, allowing them time to bicker about an animal neither had ever seen, and then jumped on the first pause. “Race each other,” he said.  
  
The programs turned. “What?” they said in unison.  
  
“Race. Just… get it all out of your systems. Whenever you get angry, work it out on the back of a bike, or something. This bickering is only funny for so long.” He hadn’t lifted himself from the dash. It was exhausting just trying to relax around the two of them.  
  
Tron nodded. “I like that idea. We’ll race.” He stood finally and mounted his bike.  
  
Clu took a moment to consider before engaging his own. “To where?” he asked.  
  
Flynn sighed. “The other side and back. But I’m sure you want specific coordinates.”  
  
There was another short bout of arguing over whether to use the arena grid or the city’s matrix as a basis for measurement, and then they were ready to race. Clu inched his bike forward and back, trying to gain a perfect parallel to Tron’s. Eventually Flynn had to assure him that the discrepancy would be added or subtracted from the winner’s time as necessary. Satisfied, Clu readied himself for the race.  
  
When they took off it was like they had been synchronized from the start; Flynn marveled at the reflexes of the programs, that they could time it just right to seemingly mirror one another. They were neck-and-neck to the quarter point, but beyond that it was hard to tell who would win. Tron was the more experienced rider, but Clu’s skill couldn’t be discounted, either. At the turn before the wall Clu went wide. Tron let himself continue, and Flynn could see Clu twist to the side to watch—afraid the security program was going to collide with the wall. Instead, Tron pulled a sharp turn, ripping his disc from his back and using it to control his slide as it sparked across the arena floor. He replaced it and surged forward, catching up to Clu with ease.  
  
They were edging into the wider run of the imaginary course when Tron—apparently deciding that he would best Clu _and_ take his turn showboating—pulled ahead and cut the other program off not once, but three times; weaving back and forth in front of him just because he could. Clu tried twice to pull around Tron, but he was blocked, and as he straightened out the second time Flynn could see the front of his bike wiggle just enough to cause alarm. Clu didn’t notice until it was too late. In the next few agonizing seconds Flynn watched his bike lift into the air as though an enormous, invisible hand had simply flipped it, and then Clu was airborne. The bike tumbled and rolled, shattering into fragments of light and exploding on impact with the arena floor. Clu tumbled behind it and slid a good distance before coming to a stop on his back. From the corner of his eye Flynn saw Tron double back. He watched, suddenly keenly aware of how much of a risk they’d been taking screwing around on an untested gaming grid. When Tron came to a stop Clu sat up, inspecting himself visually before pulling out his disc and checking for deeper damage. Flynn could hear yelling, and then Tron leaned down from his bike to offer a hand that was promptly swatted away. Clu pushed himself to his feet and made a shooing gesture at Tron, but the other program remained in place. Flynn couldn’t understand what they were saying. It didn’t seem friendly. He kicked his bike to a start and headed their way.  
  
“—your bike, then,” he heard Clu say as he approached.  
  
“Absolutely not!”  
  
“You’re responsible for this, give me your light cycle.” Clu was still motioning for Tron to dismount.  
  
Tron pushed him away. “I apologized, but I’m not walking back just because you couldn’t maintain control in a simple fishtail.”  
  
“Tails are in the back!” Clu yelled. He seemed to have completely lost control of his temper; another contribution of his own that Flynn was beginning to regret not writing out of him. He was about to intervene and attempt yet again to stop their argument, but he froze in stunned silence when Clu lifted his leg and forcibly took position on the bike between Tron and the dashboard display.  
  
“Clu, what—get off!” Tron yelled.  
  
“No.”  
  
That was about all Flynn could take. He started his bike and turned to leave. They could stay, he decided, and claw at each other until one of them glitched for all he cared. Something in the way they fought made him feel like it was for his benefit, or maybe they just enjoyed having an audience, so he made the decision to remove himself from the situation entirely. He decided he’d rather go back through the portal hours ahead of schedule than listen to their petty squabbles.

Flynn had only covered half the distance when he turned to make sure Tron hadn’t derezzed Clu. What he saw nearly caused the second crash of the evening.  
  
Tron had grabbed Clu and pulled him back, craning his neck to lean down, his face covering the other program’s. They were… kissing. That’s what it looked like, anyway. At the very least Tron was kissing Clu, who was suspiciously limp at that moment. Then he raised one hand and wove his fingers into Tron’s hair.  
  
Flynn wasn’t sure when he had stopped, but he was suddenly _very_ aware of the vibrations from the idling bike between his legs. He watched, mouth dry and slack, as Tron’s hand roamed across the front of Clu’s suit, the black and white material fading away under his touch. Clu’s other hand joined the first, pulling Tron further toward him as Tron reached for parts of Clu that Flynn couldn’t help but relate to his own. Then Clu was released, pushed down against the flat dash console, mostly naked and breathing hard enough for Flynn to see the heave of his back as Tron covered him with his own body.  
  
Their bike was idling as well, and Flynn—painfully hard by that point—couldn’t help but imagine what it felt like against bare skin, and the sensitive circuits that lit the length of Clu’s body. Tron had reached around under Clu; Flynn didn’t need to think creatively to figure out what was going on there. Then Tron was touching himself, hand between his own legs, doing something—  
  
“Holy shit,” Flynn muttered. Tron was barely free from his suit before he was pushing forward, thrusting powerfully and noticeably rough even from a distance. Clu’s hands were sliding across the sleek black surface of the bike’s shell. Flynn could hear them now, even over the purr of his light cycle. He reached down, distantly aware of wanting to stop himself, but the sight of Tron rocking against Clu, hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him back to meet his thrusts—Flynn was pretty sure he would finish before either of the programs. Tron leaned down over Clu and started moving faster, saying something that was impossible to hear. Flynn watched and fought the urge to lie down on his bike, just to feel the vibration against his cock. It was a losing battle, though, and he found himself half-leaning with a hand pressed between the seat and his aching erection.  
  
“What the hell am I _doing?_ ” he groaned. He rolled his hips a bit, and the sheer joy of finally giving in to his arousal made him grin bitterly and laugh. It was quickly silenced by a hoarse moan, and Flynn bit his lip to stifle the sound. Tron was driving into Clu with such force that it rocked the light cycle forward. Flynn could see Clu’s hands tightening on the bike, his leg twitching out of sync with Tron’s rhythm. Flynn knew from personal experience what that meant. A moment later Clu cried out and arched against Tron, who never slowed, even as Clu shuddered against him. The sight of Clu coming was so much more intimately erotic than anything Flynn had ever watched before. It was enough to push him over the edge, and he ground against his hand and the rumbling seat of the bike as he came, eyes locked on the spot where Tron was still moving intently against Clu, showing the first signs of his own impending climax in the stutter of his hips. Flynn watched his body go rigid, and then Tron was thrusting again, deep and aggressive, making Clu tense beneath him.  
  
When it was over Flynn panicked. He shouldn’t have watched that. He _definitely_ shouldn’t have jerked off over his own light cycle at the same time. He was suddenly glad for the arena suits and their opaque plates; the last thing he needed was for Tron and Clu to see the spreading evidence of just how much he had enjoyed their little show.  
  
Tron was kissing Clu again, only this time his lips were pressed to the other program’s neck. He made his way down one shoulder and back up again, and Clu turned to look at him.  
  
That was when he saw Flynn. Clu tapped Tron’s leg—slowly at first, then faster when he failed to respond. Flynn looked around, trying to pretend he hadn’t seen anything, but they were on a vast, empty gaming grid. It was ridiculous to even try, and he knew it. When Tron turned and saw that Flynn had watched, he paused for a moment, shrugged, and returned to mouthing the gold line on Clu’s shoulder. Flynn could see him smile and say something. Clu nodded. He looked back to Flynn and slowly lifted his hand from the bike, curling one finger and beckoning the user to join them. Flynn felt a deep pang of arousal that went straight down his center, and the next thing he knew he was pushing the pedal down as hard as it would go.


	2. Remix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alternate perspective.

“No.”  
  
Tron could hear a disgusted sound from Flynn, and then the user was gone, the rumble of his bike growing quieter as he rolled into the distance behind them. “You’re making a fool of yourself, Clu.”  
  
The response was Clu settling himself further onto the bike, pushing back against Tron in order to claim more of the seat. “Then take me to the exit or give me the light cycle,” he said matter-of-factly.  
  
“I can’t drive with you in front of me, I’d have to lay on top of you!” He meant to sound angry, but Clu put his hands on the bike and pushed back again, inadvertently grazing the circuits on his abdomen, and the last few words trailed off into a needy sound that he quickly covered with something more appropriate to the situation. “Clu,” he warned, a little more breathless than he would have liked, “you should get off the bike now.”  
  
Clu wasn’t paying attention, though. He was rambling about how he could have been damaged, derezzed, and “If you’re so worried about Flynn, you shouldn’t give him more work to do by damaging my code.”  
  
Tron snapped. He wrapped a hand around Clu’s neck and pulled him back, shivering at the contact with his circuits. “I was worried about _you_ ,” he hissed into Clu’s ear. His other hand was tight against Clu’s stomach, holding him in place. He slid his fingers around the neck of Clu’s suit, up through his hair, and then pulled his head back so that he could see his face. “Now, I’m giving you one last chance to get off this light cycle.”  
  
Clu’s eyes were wide, but he made no move to retreat. That was all the permission Tron needed. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Clu’s, sliding his tongue between lips gone slack from shock. Clu made a tiny, high-pitched sound and opened his mouth to Tron, tangling his fingers in the other program’s hair and urging their bodies closer together. It had to be painful, to twist and bend himself at such an angle, but Clu seemed intent on creating as much contact between them as possible, still leaning back to deepen the kiss. Tron slid his tongue along Clu’s lower lip and then bit gently, eliciting another soft sound that made his circuits flare and his arousal grow. His hands roamed Clu’s body, and he derezzed whatever he could reach of the armor beneath them. Clu reached up with his other hand and levered himself against Tron, grinding into his circuits.

They seemed headed toward an inevitable conclusion, and neither made any effort to stop. Tron hadn’t intended for it to go so far—he thought Clu would panic and scramble off the seat the moment their lips touched, but he was staying, and seemed intent on trying to outdo Tron in this arena, as well.  
  
Well, that wasn’t going to happen. With regret and a growl that spoke more of his desire than frustration, Tron ripped himself away from Clu, shoving him forward onto the bike. Clu wrapped his arms around the front of the chassis and panted. “Tron,” he said, “I was worried too, earlier. You took a risk—”  
  
“You liked that though, didn’t you?” Tron purred, laying his chest across the curve of Clu’s back, letting the other program feel the burn of his circuits. Making sure Clu understood what he was doing to him. “What did you think?” Tron asked. He snaked his hand around Clu’s side and under his body, reaching for his cock. He could feel the vibration of the bike against the circuits that lined his hand and fingers. It wasn’t making things any easier.  
  
“Of you sh—” Clu stammered as Tron’s gloved fingers wrapped around him and squeezed, “—showing off for Flynn?”  
  
“Not for Flynn,” Tron growled. He swept his hand over the front of his own suit, freeing his erection. Clu groaned as Tron pushed it against him, hot skin gliding over skin, and then Tron pressed forward, sliding into the other program, feeling tight muscles clench around him as Clu cried out and tensed. He cursed and drove forward, taking hold of Clu’s shoulders and leading off with ruthless force that had Clu grasping for leverage along the slick surface of the bike, leaving smudged prints in the wake of his fingers. The bike rocked violently with his thrusts, but Tron kept them upright with a foot to the arena floor. Clu was begging him; half-words and inarticulate sounds that melted into pleas and sighs, and appeals for _more_. He could feel the warm flutter of Clu’s circuits against his bared skin, and he knew the other program wouldn’t last much longer. With a strangled cry Clu wrapped himself tight around the bike and shook, and Tron felt every muscle clamp down around his cock, driving him wild and dragging him to the very edge. He kept going, teetering on the brink, so close to release—then he reached it, shaking, and his body went rigid as the first sharp pulse rippled through him. He swept forward again and slammed into Clu even harder than before, giving everything he had to the other program.  
  
Tron slid back on the seat, withdrawing from Clu with a shiver. He didn’t bother rerezzing either of their suits. He laid himself over Clu’s back and kissed him gently, muttering praise and appreciation. “Do you understand, now?” he asked. Clu turned to reply and stopped. He tapped Tron’s leg, but the security program was absorbed in the warm, glowing circuit that ascended his shoulder, licking it and nibbling just enough to feel the static spark it caused. He could feel Clu tense beneath him, and the tapping on his leg became a series of panicked slaps. “What?” He looked down, seeing Clu’s wide-eyed stare, and turned to follow his gaze. There, on the other end of the area, near the exit, was Flynn. Tron knew without question that the user had seen everything.  
  
“We shouldn’t have done this,” Clu said. He tried to push himself up from the bike, but Tron held him down, shrugging against his back.  
  
“Well, he’s only ever stopped us when he didn’t like what we were doing,” Tron said with a smile, turning back to the tantalizing path of gold on Clu’s broad shoulder. “Maybe we should invite him over so he can see how well we’re getting along. It was his idea to ‘work it out on the back of a bike’, after all.”  
  
Clu’s body trembled, but Tron could see the corners of his mouth lift just a bit. He watched as Clu reached out and beckoned Flynn with one shaking hand. The next thing Tron heard, as he reached around to stroke Clu back to arousal, was the roar of Flynn’s light cycle growing louder and louder.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it is implied here that Clu learned the disc-controlled slide from Tron. I was going to write that in but then I started writing sex and you know how it is.


End file.
